In Fragments
by KillRomantic
Summary: A Bleach/Death Note crossover attempt. L discovers there’s much more to the afterlife than he initially thought when he happens to cross the path of two teens wielding swords who eventually lead him to meet another form of injustice playing God.
1. I

_I know promised this account strictly for Harry Potter fiction and my other account for different categories of fiction but I__'__m admittedly thinking of abandoning/deleting my latter account and I already uploaded the story under this username and said, hey, why not? :D (Rhetorical question, I know. That's why I placed a convenient smiley at the end. To make it better.) But, yes my avid Harry Potter followers, I enjoy anime too. Well, actually, just these two in particular. I wouldn__'__t say I__'__m very fond of any others.  
_

_Anyway, regarding the story's plot and time… I'm pretty sure their separate plot lines were the farthest thing from being parallel, but both universes' need for perfect justice is pretty much on the same level. Except one has a boy with trusty a Death Note in hand and the other a man with Espadas at his beckoning call. So, with that said, I__'__m still pretty impartial of where I should post this story__'s category under. It might change within time if the plot decides to unfold in Rukia and Ichigo__'s perceptive opposed to L__'s, so we__'ll see. And, also, I imagine this story taking place a little after Ichigo and company save Orihime from Hueco Mundo.  
_

_And on that final note, enjoy? &oh, I__'d love feedback _:D_  
_

--  
_In Fragments_  
I  
--

'But the beginning of things, of a world especially, is necessarily vague, tangled, chaotic, and exceedingly, disturbing.'  
-_The Awakening_; Kate Chopin.

L opened his eyes.

The world shifted from splotches of black and white to large pools of color within a stretched moment. Gray flattened the ground's horizon and he languidly leaned forward off of his back and onto his knees, the flesh of his palms eventually meeting the cold pavement. He then inclined his chin skyward and blinked to better his blurry view of his current surroundings.

Trash was scattered about him; discarded silver bags glittering from the glow of artificial lights littered around the grimy street corners that multiplied as his eyes continued to search for more. Noises were buzzing above him but he didn't seem to have the ability to reach them; to experience the loud sounds of cars honking and rubbing against worn gravel, instead they had simply spread across the air like a spark eating oxygen and eluded his ears.

He supposed he was well past dead now.

There was a faint and familiar _clinkclink_ that mirrored his slow movements and he nearly wondered if he was still attached to the personification of justice but he stopped himself, vividly recalling he had fallen out of a chair when he passed. Tucking his chin to his chest he found a chain bleeding from his chest and he fingered the rigid object with mild curiosity.

_Clinkclinkclink_ was its lethargic response.

How peculiar.

L was not a man that acted upon religious beliefs; however, the knowledge that he held of several religions he became acquainted with over the years never once regarded a chain hanging from your heart once you were dead. But what did that mean in the long run? Nothing. He was still standing here with a hole in his chest and a linked metal rope attached to it despite the numerous religious views he studied. He always assumed religion was, more or less, an ideal element of deception, a way to morally bind people to the lesser evils opposed to the greater ones the world regularly tempted. Standing to his feet with his chain chasing him, he wondered if anyone besides himself stumbled across the thought that the same temptation that led mortals to hell was often created by the mortals themselves.

Once again he peered upward and found no heaven shining upon him. The last of the stars were faded from Tokyo's synthetic lights while the city's chipped skyscrapers pushed the sky away.

He shoved his hands into his jeans' pockets. Perhaps he should have killed Kira with his own hands when he had the chance.

_There is no Heaven or Hell. There is only conceptualism._

--

Ichigo and Rukia continued to race across tattered fields of blackened cement, zipping through abandoned alleyways lost to the rest of the moving world, and into heavily polluted air that blanketed the more run-down areas of the city. Their rapid footsteps were immaculate, thought of moments in advance in order to carefully disengage themselves from the living realm they had to avoid unless they favored strange, wide eyes following papers scattered about without a breeze or people stumbling to regain their balance when notably nothing should have left them tumbling to the ground.

This trip to the city was not favorable, after all. Simply a business matter that must be taken care of.

Which was admittedly odd to Ichigo, who had not ventured out of his town this far in the Living World to simply cleanse a hollow or send a soul to the Soul Society in his short timespan of becoming a Shinigami. He didn't have much of an opportunity to question Rukia's assignment, though, being immediately dragged to the city miles piled upon miles away. Only when she halted did his thoughts burst from his gasping mouth.

"Why… _the hell_… are we in Tokyo?"

Her sharp eyes met his. "Renji alerted me there's recently been…spiritual activity here. We hadn't gotten word of it lately because we were too preoccupied with Hueco Mundo." She frowned as her eyes left her companion to the streets lined with action and liveliness. "However, even with the heightened amount of spiritual activity, hollows haven't been attracted to Tokyo."

Ichigo knitted his eyebrows together, equally perplexed at the comprising situation as Rukia was. "But that doesn't make any sense. I mean, if there's any type of spiritual activity that usually means hollows are to blame."

"Which makes this case that much more abnormal," replied Rukia. "But also, as of now, trivial to the Winter War–" she paused before turning to her friend, "did you feel that?"

"Yeah," he muttered, instinctively unsheathing his sword as an unsettling feeling peeked aside of his senses. His eyes surveyed the busy streets only to eventually fall upon an expired soul standing in a slumped manner with wide eyes watching the passing situation as his dilated pupils reflected the blur of animated lights dazzling the dark atmosphere around them. The man appeared unmarred, apparently having not experienced a painful and horrific death, while he wore a stoic face and held a slouched position. "_That_'_s_ the guy we came over here for?"

Rukia squinted, observing the strange individual with aberrant features foreign to Japan's inhabitants and culture. There was a precise, calculating air about him, nearly dispassionate. She frowned. Dispassion and souls shouldn't intersect. If such happened, usually, the outcome wasn't… good, in simple terms.

A vague image of Aizen had fled from the back of her mind and sprung to the forefront of her vision until she hastily blinked it away.

When the dubious girl hadn't replied, the teen rolled his eyes and pointed the hilt of his sword toward the man. "Whatever then." he muttered, "I'll just get this over with."

He moved forward without Rukia's consent and she followed in suit, her step faltering when the soul eventually acknowledged their approaching bodies. His detached stare initially ensnared their movements in a web of hesitation until Ichigo broke forward, his lips parting to introduce himself and go over the usual formalities. The soul, however, interrupted the incident speech to come.

"Strange attire to be wearing during the week," he commented with little tone to his backhanded utterance. Ichigo scowled.

"Listen you–"

"We're Shinigamis," Rukia informed before Ichigo could continue; inwardly praising herself when she appeared to have gotten a slight reaction out of the seemingly nonchalant man. "We're here to pass you on to the other world."

The man moved his thumb to his bottom lip. "How strange indeed," he stated impartially. "Would you believe me if I claimed to have met a few other Shinigamis before?" His hand fell from his mouth, slipping back into his empty pocket. Ichigo's bitter expression fell alongside the soul's hand. "However, they carried notebooks opposed to wielding swords."

--

_Um. Reviews? Suggestions? I'd love to hear them _:)_  
_


	2. II

_Wow, I was admittedly taken back by overwhelming __surprise at the amazing feedback I received for the first chapter. Thanks so much guys, it really made my day _:)_ I think that's why I updated so fast. hinthint.  
_

_On a more serious note, Death Note'__s genuine time line will most definitely be alternated primarily due to the reason that I simply want to introduce Mello and Matt into the story without having to cover a five year gap between the time of L_'_s death and their first appearances. Plus, I find it fitting if their characters are at a closer age range to Bleach_ _characters_ (well, at least Bleach's _human_ characters)_. But, uh, yeah. Thanks for reading!  
_

--  
_In Fragments  
_II  
--

'"…fairness," he said, "does not govern life and death. If it did, no good person would ever die."'  
-_The Five People You Meet In Heaven_; Mitch Albom.

_These particular Shinigamis_, L inwardly concluded as the two adolescents standing before him remained frozen; leadenly allowing his words to gradually sink into their apparent ambiguous minds, _are terribly inexperienced and tainted._

Which was a shame, really. Because the detective had gotten so accustomed to consistently associating himself with humans carrying such high caliber, like Light, any other interaction was deemed less than disappointing. Useless, even.

He supposed he _did_ thoroughly enjoyed the habitual recriminated sessions held between Kira and himself; even more so when he gained the upper hand. But he assumed, while the nail of his thumb idly grazed over his bottom lip, he hadn't really died in vain and he wasn't completely upset with losing to Light. To injustice, yes. But to a worthy opponent, not necessarily. Now he just wondered how Near and Mello would encompass the little evidence he left behind and proceed to map out a different direction and intricate diagram to ensnare Kira in his own wicked game.

The bevy of sounds (which appeared more like arguments and insults) from the teens that earlier transcended from him as his mind drifted even farther away struck him abruptly. He spared the bickering pair a glance with little emotion conveyed in his sterile features. They seemed oddly perturbed in return.

The boy with a scowl pinned deeply into his face stepped forward again; the short girl with her lips compressed in a thin line parroting his moves. L gently bit the tip of his finger; carefully observing the two's rather unique outer qualities. It wasn't uncommon in cities, especially like Tokyo, for youths such as their age to rebel against the invariable need to control their appearance and behavior adults generally attempted to govern over them. Still, bleaching one's hair bright _orange_ tended to be viewed as an extreme; although, the vibrant, offhanded attention it executed didn't seem to stray far from the boy who wore it. The girl was obviously of a superior pedigree, calculating in a way, as her dark blue irises evaluated the situation presented before her. Evidently, the duo leveled each other out fairly well.

"Did you say you know _other_ Shinigamis?" the girl pressed on hesitantly; the little arches of her eyebrows knitting together. The redhead tarried in his own manifested silence at her side. Apparently she was the one who did most of talking.

"Yes," he simply answered, explaining himself when her expression only grew more perplexed and worried, "however, they were of a different… species, I presume. Their appearance was immensely grotesque; unworldly, embodied death, I suppose."

"And you said they carried notebooks?" He nodded once. Her frown deepened, addressing the boy finally as she turned to him. "I've never heard of any Shinigami using notebooks as weapons or for anything else for that matter."

The adolescent scratched the back of his head thoughtfully. "Maybe he's lying then?"

"No, I can assure you I'm not," L insisted monotonously, "like I theorized, they are imaginably of a different breed." He released thumb from his teeth's loose grip and wiped it slowly on his shirt, removing the leftover saliva. "They may possibly have a different purpose as well, assuming that yours is concerned around the afterlife opposed to theirs that appears to deal with matters mundane to this world." He paused. "Until, that is, Kira decided to cleanse this world and plunge it into an illusion of Eden."

_Ah. So they_'_re well acquainted with such a perversion of injustice_, he thought when the teens' eyes glowed with alarm and familiarity. _Perhaps I underestimated them._

"I think it's best if we discuss more of this _Kira_ matter in safer confinements. Would you be willing to follow my friend and I back to our home?" He shrugged in mild agreement. "Great. My name is Kuchiki Rukia," introduced the raven-haired teen, "and this," she thumbed to back of her, "is Kurosaki Ichigo."

"Pleased to make your acquaintances," the detective responded; lacking a 'pleased' tone. Ichigo glanced at Rukia warily. "You may call me L."

--

Four seated themselves respectively around a wooden table low to the floor; three with cups of tea resting before them and one with a chain draped over his folded legs. There was little provided repose for them when Ichigo, Rukia, and L had finally reached a point where Rukia considered 'safe'. It was inevitably Urahara's shop and its keeper was more than pleased to open his humble store to the weary souls – that is, only if he was included in their verbal exchange.

L had politely declined the steaming tea the three others were now consuming, simply informing he preferred drinks he could sweeten with sugar _and_ cream. He had once been a tea man, but the image of relishing in its soothing taste and vapory fumes while engaged in a game of chess with elderly man eventually replaced with a pulchritudinous boy was blurry to him now. He didn't understand why but maybe he didn't need to.

Rukia recapitulated everything L had enlightened her and Ichigo with regarding the abnormal spiritual activity to Urahara who indulged himself in the fresh information and possible leads it could haply flesh out. When she finished, L took it upon himself to continue.

"As my appearance blatantly suggests, I did not originate from here," L proceeded. "Instead, I came from the United Kingdom. However, I was called upon because I became intrigued with a particular case concerning a being who titled them self as Kira; more conspicuously, _God_. It was evident from the beginning of this case that it contained unnatural properties such as the Death Note." Deliberately pausing, he glanced to study their expressions. All which were skeptical. "From what I managed to gather, I believe the Death Note is a book containing pages that signify blank lifelines. I don't think it can kill other Shinigamis or those… hollows you referred to earlier, assuming the book was designed for humans only. Once a particular being's name is written down, they will die from a heart attack unless written to die another way otherwise. Obviously, if someone were to discover such an object possessing capabilities like I described, it wouldn't be difficult for them to develop a god complex or something akin to it with such control. Unfortunately, Yagami Light, is no different."

"Yagami Light?" Rukia repeated.

"Yes, Light-kun," responded L. "When I arrived in Japan and embarked on this case, I gradually narrowed down the possible suspects until Light-kun had become my prime one. Ironically, he's also a son of a police officer that volunteered to aid me in finding Kira and bring him to justice. Shortly after my accusations, Light-kun made it necessary to clear his name from my suspicions; doing so by joining the police force. In fact, I believe he is still working side by side with his father as we speak."

Ichigo squinted. "But that means he's working to find _himself_…"

"Perfect cover up," Rukia remarked lowly. "This way, he's able to keep an eye on the progress of tracking 'Kira' without having to snoop around his father's classified reports and information."

"Then that means he'll always have the upper hand," concluded Ichigo, his fists clenched painfully together at the realization.

"I'd appreciate it if you were to tell us more about Kira's purpose," Urahara hummed, "if you'd be so kind, that is."

"Kira wants to obtain perfect justice," L supplied. "Unfortunately, as intelligent and analytical as Light-kun is, his perception is nothing but a deception. One cannot condemn another; that is God's choice and will to do so. Kira intends to cleanse this world by murdering criminals who committed heavy crimes. By killing such dangerous individuals, he sets fear in other citizens that will most likely maintain 'good' behavior so their lives will be spared in return. Light-kun doesn't seem to see anything wrong in this – killing for killing concept. He believes it as necessary rather than murder."

"You speak of Kira and Yagami Light as two separate people." blinked Rukia.

L mirrored her blink. "They are. Light-kun is a pristine adolescent that desires nothing more than to assist his father; make his mother proud, and set a good example for his younger sister. Kira is infected; greedy, with a dangerous reflection on morals and laws. Besides," he added, "there's _two_ Kiras. One that is the main Kira, the supreme God, Light, and a lesser, inferior one that works under him, which, I'm suspecting is Amane Misa, Light-kun's significant other. Both Kiras have very different purposes, one is to purify this world while the other is to kill those who oppose and attempt to defy his methods."

Ichigo's gaze fell to his untouched tea, his eyes staring hard and long at nothing in particular. "Now that you mention it, I can remember my dad clicking through the TV channels and watching something about prisoners dying in Tokyo. But… we… it started when Aizen took Orihime; I just didn't think it was important. Or, at least, not as important as saving Orihime."

"That also explains the uneasy quiet nature our school has fallen into once we arrived back," added Rukia. "Our classmates must have been following the story while we've been preoccupied with Hueco Mundo."

"I assume Kira's reign will begin now that I've died," L commented. "Unless one of my successors manages to bring him to justice."

--

The door had slammed shut upon the wake of the boy's departure; leaving the two left behind to revel in the silence that ensued afterward.

The next sound to bounce across the room and echo in its empty corners was the noise of several pieces of a puzzle being piled onto the floor. "Near," came next and the albino peered from his seat. "What do we do now?"

"Assuming Mello will not come back," Near answered, "then proceed with the case without his assistance."

"Yes, of course. But… what do we do with the little substantial evidence we have?"

"Well, I suppose that's a fairly easy answer," responded the familiar yet contrasting boy. "We start from scratch and rebuild on the tiny foundation we already have. This case is just like any other case we've dealt with. It's just like a puzzle, only this time," his fingers continued to delicately pluck random puzzle fragments from the floor and connect them together, "the pieces we have are smaller."

"Do you think Mello will try to join you again?"

"No. I don't think so. He wouldn't allow himself too. However, I wouldn't be surprised if he tries to take matters into his own hands. All he needs is information and a theory while I, myself, simply need information." He assembled the last piece of the puzzle. "I already have a theory."

--

The discussion with L came to an end; the young Shinigami and even younger substitute Shinigami reduced to two bleary youths with school threatening their moods and stress even more. Urahara suggested L reside in his shop; informing if Ichigo or Rukia were to pass him onto the Soul Society they wouldn't be capable of bringing him back to this world. Instead, the shop keeper would design a way to cleanse L without transferring him anywhere. The concept of the idea was rather simple but terribly complicated to be performed. However, it _can_ be performed, Urahara assured, and lucky for him, L's life chain appeared to be deteriorating at a slower rate than usual. Tessai then had promptly threw L down the tunnel which led to the training grounds Ichigo had grown to claim as his '_second home_', diving in after the detective with Jinta and Ururu at his heels.

When Urahara returned to the table Ichigo and Rukia were still lingering in their spots, weary expressions painted over their faces.

"Why the long face, Kuchiki?"

"I'm worried about this Kira individual," she admitted quietly, her eyes fixated on the wooden table placed before her. "If he carries such a powerful ability as L claims, there's a likely chance Aizen will take notice in him. Their views don't appear to be far off with Aizen trying to create a heaven for himself and this Kira character attempting to cleanse the Living World. I'm positive if they do, by chance, meet, Aizen will without question disparage Shinigamis and our purpose."

"But L said that death book or whatever can't _kill_ other Shinigamis." interjected Ichigo. "Why would Aizen want something that can't affect the Soul Society?"

"I think what Rukia is trying to say is that he's been able to mold hollows and Zanpaktous together, which weren't meant to mix; only to meet when a Shinigami is purifying a hollow," Urahara informed. "If Aizen were to get his hands on a Death Note like Kira's… well, I'm certain he's very capable of alternating its use, possibly to kill off Shinigamis as well as humans."

Rukia slowly stood from her seat, lifting her gaze to the shop owner. "He'll probably promise Kira eminence in his new heaven if the human were to voluntarily agree to participate in the Winter War and allow such a conversion of the Death Note." She paused, reanalyzing the ostensible outcome to her theory. "I think we must alert someone inside Sereitei. Do you think you can do that, Urahara?"

"It'd be my pleasure under your command, Miss Kuchiki," grinned Urahara. The short girl didn't bat an eyelash at the ridiculous flattery.

"Very well. I suppose we can leave L here for the time being," Rukia continued to mumble while her eyes eventually fell upon Ichigo. "And you can't tell Orihime or Uryuu or anyone about L. In fact, it would probably be in your best interest if you stayed out of this matter all together."

"What?!" he exclaimed suddenly, springing to his feet.

"You're human, after all," explained Rukia with little empathy. "So are Uryuu and everyone else I mentioned. Didn't you listen to L? This Death Note can _kill_ you, all of you. We can't place your safety on the line when there's no way to protect you. You'll simply have to cover for us until we're able investigate this Kira and his intentions further."

Ichigo grimaced, averting Rukia's blunt stare. "…_Fine_. But you better tell me if you find any way I can help."

"I wouldn't dream of doing otherwise."

--

_Hmmm. I'm still messing around with chapter formats so chapter titles most likely are subject to change within a few days. Anyway, to be more specific on Bleach time line, this story begins right after Ichigo saves Orihime the second time around from Hueco Mundo (when she goes on her own accord; nearly kisses Ichigo before she leaves–__I think at least, ring a bell?). To be honest, I__'m not sure if the manga or anime covered that rescue as of yet, but even if they had, this story__'s setting will remain a week or so after Orihime is brought home. And lastly,__ feedback/reviews/suggestions? Please&thankyou. _:)


	3. III

_Thanks again to those who read and reviewed, its really appreciated, guys; you don't have any idea how much I love them. Also, thank you to those who put this story on alert or favorite lists, that really made my day too. (Of course I'd really love a review attached to them but…) Anyway, I'm not too proud of this chapter so I apologize for it in advance._

--_  
In Fragments_  
III  
--

'In dreams the links of life are united: we forget that our friends are dead; we know them as of old.'  
-Henry D. Thoreau.

It was a morbidly fascinating realization that struck the very core of the impassive innards of Near.

He twiddled a lock of hair around his pale finger trivially as his mind soared high above his lonely confinements and toward the heavens. Did this Kira really believe in such a twisted concept of repentance? Surely not. The idea was blurry on many different levels and the value of sacrificing anything was completely distorted from his mind's comprehension.

Perhaps then, L did?

Did L know his destined fate? To die, at the magnificently defiled hands – callused with evil and polluted perception on the line drawn between murder and art – of his own nemesis? His demise?

Near didn't like to contemplate over L's internal issues that weren't so internal to begin with. The young boy always felt his logic torn at the mere thought of L's _own_ thoughts. L was the pillar of justice, theory; philosophy, so why did he _die_ at the simple request of a boy impelled by moral obligations? Why did L know and allow the event to run its course?

Answers eluded Near and the boy was left with nothing but a scrap of a paper; _a withering remnant_, found in L's pocket.

He wanted to frown but found himself moving a toy branded train along its never ending trail he linked together to form a circle wide enough to provide him ample room to sit in the middle of it.

L's handwriting was terrible; forced. The detective always preferred technology rather than manual methods; inclined to typing, not to pens and pencils.

Still, something compelled him to pick an abandoned pen probably resting in one of the several rooms he resided at, messily tear a section of notebook paper from a report, and _write_.

Near scanned the words again.

_mala fide_. In bad faith.

His hand slipped but his train continued to follow its track.

--

_Thud_.

Ichigo felt a mild tingle of pain prickle the side of his body that had unexpectedly greeted the floor of his room. Groggily, he rolled onto his back and pried his eyes open to assess the current situation. Rukia was standing promptly on the edge of his bed, leaning forward as her shadow loomed over his fallen form. Normally, he probably would've kicked the mattress hard enough to force her to stumble and nearly fall off it and, maybe, if he was Kon, he would've taken notice in how dangerously short her school skirt really was before determinedly focusing his gaze elsewhere but he was too tired for any of that. Instead, he attempted to form a glare, only managing to squint half-heartedly at her.

With his lack of usual response, Rukia frowned. He always had a biting remark to her violent approaches. His failed retort to her actions was almost tantamount to serious injury.

"If you're still tired, Ichigo, I suppose it'd be best if you slept in for the day," she informed, hopping briskly off the bed.

"No, I'm fine," he yawned, forcing himself upwards. He glanced at the alarm clock placed on his burrow, his eyes widening in panic when he read the numbers staring unwaveringly back at him. "What the hell?! Its nine-twenty!"

"Your dad said it would be fine if we slept in for a bit," she merely shrugged in explanation. "I assume we're so exhausted from L's unusual spiritual pressure; possibly even his personality."

Ichigo began to rummage through his drawers, pulling out a pressed and newly washed school uniform with crisp creases and intricate folds in the right places. His friend turned respectively away when he began to change. "Yeah, he was kind of a creep," he muffled through his clothes, "really morbid."

"Disinterested," Rukia murmured in addition.

"But I guess he needs to be like that, you know?" Ichigo said once his pants were buttoned and his shirt tucked in. "He's a detective, right? I guess he can't act on his emotions. Just his theories or something."

"That would probably make it easier for him to investigate cases," agreed Rukia, throwing him his book bag while slinging hers over her shoulder. "Ready to go?"

He nodded, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I guess."

Once they had bid Ichigo's father goodbye; which was a proven adventure in itself as they endured the general obstacle of Ichigo's father who usually came bustling toward them with irritating anticipation of his son's '_purity_' finally being tainted by Rukia herself, the walk to the school was deemed favorably silent and drawn out. Rukia appeared be appraising L's possible involvement in the Winter War, diligently examining each given facet while Ichigo struggled on his own accord.

This time he'd have to let Rukia do this by herself.

It wasn't like he didn't fully trust her; in fact, it was the extreme opposite. She had, after all, successfully ceased the rain in his heart that he once forlornly presumed would forever fall until he eventually drowned in his own mistakes and misery. He just didn't _like_ the fact that he had to restrain himself, sit back, and allow Rukia to run off by herself without his assistance or watchful eye. In fact, he had been so conflicted over his inability of not being able to follow her, he had remained wide awake the night before until the break of dawn had soothed him to a light sleep. Still now the heavy thoughts haunted him again. This just felt so _foreign_, he thought. He was capable of letting her leave to reside in safety but not to the unknown.

Ichigo frowned.

He supposed he wasn't really obligated to protect her after he successfully saved her from execution months ago. The moment seemed so far off; almost inaccessible, and his efforts so meaningless now. Even more so when she gradually restored her powers after the ordeal and eventually wielded her own sword again; the icy tip of it permeating through the face of the very man she had once been completely devoted to while meeting him for the last time in Hueco Mundo.

_Kaien_.

Sometimes Rukia appeared as if she was trapped in that evanescent second when she killed her dear friend for the second time around. Her emotions were always a fusion of conflicted hope, consuming disappointment; at times, even reflected salvation.

_'All I ever wanted to do was save him._' he can still remember her whisper brokenly to him when he attempted to speak to her about the particular event that nearly left her dead in Aizen's contorted castle. '_And I don't know if I ever can._'

Ichigo glanced at his friend.

The line had been drawn between them.

His fists tightened and there was no echo in his heart.

_If you saved anyone, Rukia, it was me._

--

If there was one thing L hated, it was too feel like a mere skeleton; useless bones left behind once the appealing flesh and vital organs had decomposed and faded into nothingness.

L was no longer a detective. Now he was just a corpse, suspended between the Living World and whatever this Soul Society was.

His evidence had decayed along with him and his detailed efforts had only pushed the task force so far. More importantly, he didn't _win_. His earlier thoughts danced across the idea that maybe it wasn't entirely bad that he had lost to Light; nearly came to accept his assumed minuscule loss. But he quickly realized his loss wasn't small or irrelevant. Justice did not prevail under his guidance which made him doubt his own philosophies. Maybe Light had manipulated justice to such an extreme L's own perception had become completely shattered; worthless.

"You shouldn't feel so useless," the shop owner told him, sinking to the ground to better level and equalize themselves. L was seated against a wall with his legs pressed against his chest and his eyes wide and bulging. The blond man was considerably… _strange_, wearing such a fallacious façade that should've upset L but hadn't. Maybe he had grown accustomed to Light-kun far too much. Yes. He had. Far, far too much. "I'm certain you'll be a fine new recruit to Soul Society if we're eventually able to pass you onto there."

"Perhaps," replied L stoically. "Where is the girl and boy? I presume attending school, correct?"

Urahara faltered slightly, his blithe disposition wavering when there was a twitch in his forehead as he fought to restrain his eyebrows from furrowing together. Instead he inclined his chin upwards, slipping a shadow over his eyes before replying, "I guess so, yes. That Kurosaki boy is pretty responsible with anything concerning grades and hollows. It's a wonder how he manages to balance out his priorities. "

"What is the nature of his relationship between him and Kuchiki-san?" L pressed next.

Once again Urahara nearly slipped. He grinned. "I suppose they're fairly good friends. Been through a lot together."

"I meant how they encountered one another," corrected the detective. "Kurosaki is a human; Kuchiki is not."

"Long story," Urahara dismissed whimsically, waving his hand in a good-natured motion.

L deadpanned. "I see. Is it a long, labored story or perhaps a matter one should sweep under the floorboard to be forgotten and disregarded? I deduce my latter suggestion as thirty-two percent accurate."

"You must have been an extraordinary human when you were alive, L," the blond responded; his mask slowly dissipating into small particles as tiny as the dust fragments drifting about them. "Have anything else to ask me?"

"I'd like to know how Light-kun concerns your world."

Urahara removed the hat from his head, placing it gently to the side of him. This time he didn't dance around the subject.

"Aizen." he said. "You may have never met him, L, but I can assure you he'll sound familiar."

--

_Hmm, definitely not my best, regarding my writing at least. I_'_d blame school, really. Its sucking absolutely everything out of me. And about Ichigo_'_s thoughts…__ Well, I_'_m a bit conflicted over the pairings that may eventually surface in this story. Ichigo/Rukia is definitely a possibility but so is Ichigo/Orihime. I don_'_t think I_'_ll go as far as to pair Bleach and Death Note characters together, but we_'_ll see.  
&__I really didn't think I'd explore Near's character in this chapter, honestly. But I absolutely _love_ him and I guess I wanted to add a little twist to the story. Eventually I'll introduce familiar characters of both mangas/animes; _Light himself being the following character for next chapter_, so just sit back, relax, and read! Oh, and reviews would definitely be amazing._ :)


	4. IV

_I truly, truly apologize for such a delayed update for this story "/ I really hope I didn_'_t disappoint you guys in any way. My reasons for neglecting the stories on both this and my other account are, truthfully, really stupid and unnecessary but the threat of college is coming up and tests during the week had to be studied for and parties over the weekend _definitely_ needed to be attended to. But since its summer now, updating may return on a frequent basis again…__until school begins.  
_

_Also, I haven_'_t been up-to-date with recent _Bleach _manga but, from what information I was able to gather, they_'_re fighting Aizen_'_s army now. Unfortunately, when I created the plot for this story, Orihime had just been rescued. Because this is AU, the following events of Orihime willingly returning to Hueco Mundo with Ulquiorra leading her, never happened. Other than that, enjoy my semi-long chapter and return to this story _:)_  
_

--  
_In Fragments_  
IV  
--

'I may not have been sure about what really did interest me, but I was absolutely sure about what didn't.'  
-_The Stranger_; Albert Camus.

Perfect Justice. It had first stemmed from a vague idea of what the difference between right and wrong was that gradually flourished into something… well, downright _beautiful_; completely tangible.

Light suppressed a smirk, his eyes sweeping over the recently mute room.

There had been a profound silence that the office had lapsed into ever since the passing of the detective. Productivity had not wavered -- they were _still_ running around in circles at Kira's godly disposal -- and the misplaced thought of bringing justice forth had continued to healthily prosper in their ill-informed minds.

What _idiots_, the young God thought bitterly, searching for something lodged so bluntly under their dirty noses. But humans were prone to being blind simply because they ironically had separate opinions and perceptions that blocked out divine truth. Such a paradox, isn't it?

A firm hand had been placed upon his shoulder and his world shifted slightly; the adolescent immediately, and carefully, ostracizing his expression before peering upwards to lock eyes with his elder. Mr. Yagami wore a look of concern, his moustache untrimmed and his eyes drooping slightly from subtle defeat and stretching stress.

It was a bit cruel, in theory, that L had pressed a lasting impression of anxiety and depression on the crew. It could've been Kira's fault too, but Kira was doing the world good, after all (so, it just _can't_ be his fault), and L's plan to intercept and dismantle the golden pinnacle the rising God had been recently climbing was unnecessary. The aforementioned man was only investigating because _he_ had thought the case as superior as himself; something eccentric and worth value. And it was his arrogance that led him to his death which left the team with a sense of hopelessness. If L, the acclaimed detective himself, couldn't prove his beliefs and catch the murderer, then who could?

"I think you should get a breath of fresh air, Light," the older Yagami suggested.

Light's eyes grew wide -- with intention, of course. "But _dad_," he began firmly if not a little childishly. "L's—"

"—dead," Soichiro finished. "And I understand your need to pick up where he left off, but that doesn't incline you to work all hours of the day and night. You should pay your mother a visit; she's been worrying about you."

With his father's words clinging to the stale air of the room, the boy felt irritably obligated to leave the office filled with clicks of keyboards and data-collecting monitors. He sent Soichiro a wary, well-rehearsed glance before slowly pulling himself upwards and admitting quiet, begrudged agreement before reaching for his jacket.

"If you insist, father," he muttered and, with a swoosh of a pair of wings; a muffled 'hyuk, hyuk', Light exited the building under his father's request; the dark mass of Ryuk trailing not far behind.

--

"Captain?"

There was a trail of strawberry-blonde hair and a sudden, and particular, amount of weight distributed over his shoulders. He closed his eyes in acrimony, stepping forward so the remarkable heaviness previously resting on him fell, before twisting around with his arms tightly crossed and the veins in his neck throbbing dangerously. His companion smiled sheepishly in response, readily tucking away her woman assets that were propped on his shoulders moments prior in attempt to ease the malice illuminating from his small body.

"Oh Captain Hitsugaya!" she beamed dramatically; hastily. She began to turn around. "I see you're not in the position to speak now so I'll—"

_"Hold it_!" he growled suddenly and she froze. "Is there a reason why you're paying a visit to my office during midday, Lieutenant Matsumoto? Is there a sake shortage at the bar? Because I can assure you I threw out all your stashed bottles in here. In fact, I even replaced them with all your untouched paperwork for the week. Astounding how I found piles of it hiding under the couch and behind the bookcase, isn't it?"

Matsumoto Rangiku forced a pitched laugh. "Oh Captain, you know I was only paying you a visit!"

He appeared unconvinced, cocking an eyebrow as he spoke, "or could your uncharacteristic sojourn have to do with the hell butterfly you most likely saw traveling to my room?"

"Well…" Her lips were caught between a smile and a frown, unsure what direction to take the sentence's shifted subject. "I… I thought it had to do with…"

"Aizen? Partially." he answered tonelessly. Her eyes widened in captured attention, silently entreating him to continue. "Apparently the disturbance of spiritual energy Lieutenant Abarai has recently been tracking had nothing to do with hollows but a soul. Kurosaki Ichigo and Urahara successfully apprehended the soul and was informed that there could possibly be a… problem."

"A problem?" repeated Rangiku, frowning prettily. "Captain, when you say 'problem'… it doesn't regard back to Aizen and the Arrancar, does it?" The lack of response had confirmed her sharp suspicions. 'But _how_, sir?"

"I've been informed that there's a human -- a boy, who carries some sort of death book," Toushiro explained. "If the human writes a name in a page, another human will die. As of now, its power compared to shinigamis is inadequate. It can't harm us. But Urahara fears Aizen will attempt to twist its ability to kill us, instead."

"But the _boy_." chocked the attractive woman.

"Has not been contacted -- as of now," the young captain assured, resting a clenched hand on the cool surface of his desk. "However, I can only assume Aizen already knows of his and the book's existence. It's only a matter of time before he's able to track the boy down. Unfortunately, Seireitei is already swamped with preparations for the winter war nearing so there's not much that can be done."

There was an abrupt knock on the door. "Excuse me Captain Hitsugaya-kun—"

"Momo?" Rangiku exclaimed at the unexpected visitor.

The petite girl smiled shyly, a slight curl to her lip that created a lopsided quality to her smile in its entirety. She placed her small hands behind her back, straightening herself as she proceeded before the bewildered captain and his lieutenant, "I… I wanted to say goodbye to you, Hitsugaya-kun."

"Goodbye?" He furrowed his eyebrows.

"Yes," she nodded promptly, "I'm leaving for the Living world now."

"Under whose orders?" he questioned lowly.

"Captain Kuchiki. Renji -- I mean, _Lieutenant Arabai_ -- notified him of the activity in Kurosaki's town and… well… I haven't been much help for the past couple of months, and neither have I been out, so I volunteered to stay in the Living world to investigate whatever's happening and was granted permission from him." Momo recapitulated in a rushed voice, pink adorning her cheeks in slight embarrassment. She inhaled sharply, just as Toushiro parted his lips to speak, before rashly insisting, "I understand that… that Aizen's a trader now, Hitsugaya-kun, and I'd really appreciate it if you spared your comments and protests and just said goodbye to me."

Clinging tears stained the corner of her rounded eyes and Toushiro's shoulders shrugged in defeat. She looked terribly determined to pull a few departure words from him she was almost shaking, which quietly worried both him and Rangiku.

However, the lieutenant stepped quickly forward, because the formed lump in Toushiro's throat and the crystallized rocks in his feet forced him to remain where he stood, and gave the girl a hug.

"How… how _unpredictable_, Momo-chan!" laughed Rangiku, a waver threatening to ride her tongue and give way to the true uncertainty she harbored over the situation. "I'm happy you're out and about though! Heavens know I couldn't get you to go to the bar with me'n Izuru."

"Thank you, Rangiku-san," smiled the smaller girl, allowing Rangiku to part from her. She glanced at the adolescent next, unsure and quite terrified. "C-captain Hitsugaya?"

His eyes met hers. This had been the first time she ever addressed by… that. Without his crude urging. He grimaced. "Good luck, bed-wetter."

Her face lit up, nodding feverishly, and then reeled around; departing from the office. Silence delighted the enclosed area until the boy sighed.

"Captain, what if she's… not as 'stable' as she promises she is?" Rangiku blurted once the sound of footsteps gradually descended out of earshot.

Toushiro turned to her before casting his gaze to the nearest, open window. He rolled his eyes. "Lieutenant Hisagi and Lieutenant Kira, Hinamori is gone, you're allowed to come out from hiding."

There was a thud and a frantic scramble of feet before two heads belonging to Hisagi Shuhei and Kira Izuru; colored with shame, dared to rise up in dangerous, visible air.

"C-captain…" stammered Izuru incoherently, trembling under the rendering and cold stare. "We… were…"

"Never mind what you were doing, Lieutenant," harshly interrupted the boy prodigy. "Grow a backbone and send a request to Captain Kuchiki of his presence in my office immediately and _you_, Hisagi." The broader man -- just about to leave with Izuru -- jerked his head sideways to stare Toushiro directly, if not a bit reluctantly, in the eye. "Under _my_ permission, I want a joint mission between your division and Lieutenant Hinamori's. Tell her there was simply a change in plans and follow her to the Living world and arrange rooms and IDs with Urahara. I'll send you further instructions when you arrive there."

Shuhei's face twisted with conflict, however, he obediently nodded his head. "Yes Captain." he forced before flash-stepping after Momo.

Within a second of his exit, Rangiku's face fell exquisitely at the lack of an anticlimax. The absence of an explanation from Toushiro's part or the protest from Shuhei's. Instead, she was left with a verbal agreement that loomed in the air between herself and her superior; enabling her to hear every tremble and inflection to Shuhei's words. Perhaps it was better, though, in retrospect, for _someone_ to look after Momo.

"Is there something wrong, Matsumoto?" Toushiro asked.

Her jaw locked slightly. "I just have a very bad feeling, sir."

--

The sun was absent.

A pack of dark, brooding clouds had consumed everything in the atmosphere that was once light, leaving the border between the sky and street nearly nonexistent. That very fine line had blurred and smeared away and the threat of rain was prominent in smell and visibility.

Light frowned at the persistent growling of Ryuk's stomach; the spasms sure to follow any moment. He paused and glanced at the nearest market, deciding the impatient shinigami probably would not wait the entire walk home to the Yagami household for an apple, and casually entered. The adolescent walked up and down the isles, assuming Sayu was home and purchased a chocolate bar for her while grabbing two apples for the rest of the journey home for Ryuk.

"What a creepy guy," commented Light's unearthly companion and he looked over his shoulder, meeting slit eyes and silver hair. "Wonder if he's lookin at you or me."

Ignoring Ryuk's remarks, the teen stepped forward. "Can I help you, sir?"

An odd twist appeared on the man's smile. "Yagami Light," he hummed pleasantly with an undertone Light couldn't quite decipher.

The teen controlled an innocent blink before taking his plastic grocery bag, extending his free hand out. It was left untouched, suspended in mid air. Eventually Light retracted it, however, carried on with formalities. "Yes, I'm Yagami Light. I apologize but I can't seem to recognize you at this moment."

"Oh, you wouldn't recognize me," he smiled before slithering out the store's door.

Light followed in toll, collected and impartial. "Then how, may I ask, do you know of me?"

"Profound names always find their way to profound souls, Yagami Light," the man replied. There was a falter in the teen's movement at the response. The elder reeled fleetingly around.

Red. His eyes were red. Like the apples rolling back and forth in Light's bag.

"You assume you know of unworldly things, Yagami Light, and you do. But its just a sliver of knowledge that you've obtained. There's an entire world you can never touch, a world filled with _deficient_ _justice_."

"What are you talking about?" Light snarled, his pretenses falling to the snake's taunts and incoherency. "Who are you?"

"Who am I?" he smiled widely. "Why, I'm Ichimaru Gin, a shinigami."

--

_All right guys so an explanation for Momo's unexpected roll in the story will be covered in the next chapter (besides the fact that I'm admittedly one of her few fans anddecidedtogiveherthecreditshedeserves) as well Matt's brief introduction. Also, I admittedly prefer Gin'__s polite, mocking voice in the English dub rather than the Kyoto dialect he uses in the Japanese sub and honestly can write the former much more adequately than the latter, harhar. And I _**promise**_ next update will be a lot sooner than my last one. Hopefully. Cough. &reviews are lovely as always!_


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